Chapter 2

Day 21 of the Red Wolf Moon, Imperial Year 1174

"Felix… are you sure you don't want me to hold back?" Prince Dimitri asked as he watched his friend struggle to raise his training sword. He shook his arms as he waited, trying to combat the freezing temperatures of winter in Faerghus's capital of Fhirdiad.

"Never, Dimitri!" Felix insisted, though he had difficulty getting the words out. The vapor that rapidly expelled from his mouth in the cold air divulged how far he was pushing his body. "If I can't defeat you, I'll never be able to match my brother."

"If you are sure…." Dimitri said reluctantly. "But please say something if you are hurt, okay?"

Rather than respond, Felix took two quick steps towards Dimitri and swung his blade. When it was parried, he made two more strikes that were blocked. Dimitri finally pressed Felix onto the defensive at that point. With each block, Felix only barely raised his sword in time before the next swing arrived.

Dimitri's fourth swing arrived with much more force than the rest. The contact between the blades was accompanied with a piercing crack. Once both boys opened their eyes, they found that all Felix held was a splintered hilt.

Felix's face wrinkled in frustration as he tossed his broken hilt against the ground. "It's hopeless," he said as his eyes began to water.

"Don't tell me you're going to cry over a training sword, are you, Felix? Those can be easily replaced," a voice said sarcastically as one of the royal knights appeared from the colonnade that ringed the training grounds. That knight was Glenn, Felix's older brother. Other than the obvious age difference, the two looked remarkably alike- dark hair, brown eyes, and the piercing gaze of someone constantly vigilant of their surroundings. It was unclear how long Glenn had been watching the boys.

"It's not about the sword," Felix said as he held back his tears. "It's how hopelessly outmatched I am, even against someone my own size."

Glenn hopped over the ledge into the training grounds and approached the pair with a smirk. "Prince Dimitri bears the Crest of Blaiddyd. No one else 'your own size' would be capable of that kind of strength. It's not a fair comparison. Not to mention, the prince has been personally trained by Gustave of House Dominic. I don't know who father has running things back home now, but I assure you he isn't of the same caliber as Gustave."

"But if I can't train with Dimitri or you, who am I supposed to fight?" Felix moaned.

"You are welcome to train with us. In fact, you should. Just don't get caught up over victories and losses. Your strength will come with time. Besides, there is more to being a knight than strength."

"What do you mean?" Dimitri asked.

Glenn put a hand on each boy's shoulder. "Loyalty. And in your case, not just as a knight and his liege, but as two friends. Do you think our fathers' relationship was built on strength? My father is hardly the finest fighter in Faerghus."

"You aren't wrong, Glenn, but I feel like I need to defend myself when you put it like that," another voice said.

Dimitri, Felix, and Glenn all turned to watch both Lord Rodrigue and King Lambert approach.

Glenn smiled, ignoring Rodrigue's complaint. "It's good to see you, father. I knew I could find Felix at the training grounds, but I was unable to locate you earlier."

"Ah, that would make sense. I had several important matters to discuss with the king that took some time."

"Perhaps if you came to visit more often, you'd be able to spread the business out more," Glenn quipped a bit too critically. Realizing his mistake, he quickly added, "Sorry, that was out of line. I only say it for Felix and Prince Dimitri's sake. I know how much they enjoy seeing each other."

"I understand, Glenn. We should come more often. Besides, I need to make sure you aren't causing too much trouble for the prince."

"Glenn would never cause me any problems, Lord Rodrigue," Dimitri defended earnestly, not understanding it was a jest.

Both Rodrigue and the king chuckled. Lambert knelt down to his son's eye level. "Well, I'm glad to know I chose my knight carefully. It would be a dark day for Faerghus if Houses Blaiddyd and Fraldarius could not cooperate. The three of you are the future of this kingdom. When I am gone, it will be up to you to lead it."

"Please do not talk of death, father," Dimitri cried. "I'm not ready to rule yet. I don't know if I ever will be. Training can be fun, but the thought of leading my people into battle… it terrifies me."

King Lambert smiled. "That means you have a kind heart, which will make you all the better of a ruler. And even if I am gone, you do not have to walk alone. Isn't that right, Glenn and Felix?"

Glenn nodded. "Of course, Your Majesty. My sword is at the service of the prince until my dying breath."

"Mine, too… Just as soon as I find myself a new one," Felix added as he looked back at the remains of his destroyed blade.

All present laughed. Rodrigue put a hand around each son and guided them towards the nearest door. "Come now, everyone. We've stood in the cold long enough. It's nearly time for the feast."

"Yes! The palace cooks always bring out their best for Founding Day," the king agreed as he held Dimitri's hand. "May our kingdom's independence continue to be celebrated for years to come!"

Ghosts of the North – Day 29 of the Great Tree Moon, Imperial Year 1186

The enigmatic militia that confounded the Alliance scouts was encamped in a forest northwest of Claude's army. Its leader, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, sat with back against the trunk of a primeval tree. His right hand clutched his late father's lance- the formidable Hero's Relic known as Areadbhar.

Glenn's spirit had paid Dimitri a visit that night. Even after nine years passing since he had lost his life during the Tragedy of Duscur, Glenn had no intention of letting Dimitri forget his obligation to fulfill his revenge. If anything, the calls were becoming more frequent.

On this occasion, Glenn sat quietly watching the Prince of Faerghus while running a rock over his blade. Dimitri appreciated the reprieve. Normally, the dead would openly chide him for having left his duty unfulfilled, but it seemed Glenn realized that the prince was too tired that evening for his words to have much effect. His presence was enough.

Glenn's silence was of course imperfect. Dimitri did not remember every detail of that night they travelled through Duscur, but the images that remained were more than enough. His father, the King of Faerghus, crying for justice as his head was severed. Glenn's writhing, regretful screams as his life was finally snuffed out by the flames, his body having already suffered mortal injuries during his defense of the prince. The prince's stepmother walking towards that same conflagration with vacant eyes, almost as if drawn to it by an unwilling force.

What came after was similarly appalling. Dimitri saw enough of the people that assaulted the royal entourage to know that they were not of Duscur, but his pleas did nothing to prevent Faerghus's army from butchering the land in the days that followed. Dimitri's only absolution was his success in saving the son of a Duscur blacksmith named Dedue. Now Dimitri's retainer, Dedue sat a stone's throw away, keeping cautious guard while also providing his liege with adequate breathing room.

These experiences made up for Glenn's silence. The occasional cry of a vernal bird echoed the death throes of a royal knight or a Duscur woman mourning her children. A stream of sap mirrored blood from a flowing wound. He was torn between his desire to separate himself from these sources of pain and the responsibility he bore to remember and answer that suffering. As Edelgard's army scorched the lands of Faerghus, the legion of dead only continued to grow… even more casualties due to Dimitri's failure to kill her when he had the chance during the Battle of Garreg Mach.

Dimitri's solitude came to an end when he was approached by Gustave, the same knight that had formerly served Dimitri's family and taught the young prince in martial combat. Having been absent during the attack in Duscur and only arriving in time to save Dimitri's life alone, he fled to Garreg Mach Monastery in shame following the Tragedy and had taken on the name of Gilbert, leaving his wife and daughter behind. Dimitri declined to use this "Gilbert" pseudonym. It was Gustave who had first located the prince several moons earlier, making him the first active living presence in Dimitri's life for over four years. The new army grew in force from there, most recently when Dimitri was reunited with Dedue shortly before crossing the Airmid.

"What are you doing here?" Dimitri growled at Gustave.

"Your Highness, if you recall from this morning, we scheduled for a meeting at sunset to make preparations for the coming days. I planned on holding this closer to camp, but this spot should work adequately if you wish to remain."

In truth, Dimitri did not remember. He probably never heard it said in the first place. "Fine. Say what you will."

Dedue moved closer to Dimitri to join the conversation while Gustave requested, "Let us first wait for the others to arrive before we begin."

Felix was the first to find them. The heir to House Fraldarius took a seat at the same tree his late brother had occupied minutes earlier and also pulled out his sword to study it.

"I'm surprised to see my old man isn't here yet," Felix noted. "I assumed he'd be nearby to make sure you stay on your leash."

Dimitri was well-accustomed to Felix's harsh attitude towards him ever since their time at the academy, so the insult had little effect. Gustave still took offense on his behalf, however.

"Felix…" Gustave began severely.

"Please, Gilbert. I will see to him," a familiar voice interrupted. It belonged to Lord Rodrigue, who had just arrived.

"Let me guess," Felix tried, "I have an obligation to show proper respect to our future king. Maybe I will once he starts acting the part. And in case you hadn't noticed, old man, there's not much of a kingdom left. Cornelia is the one sitting pretty in Fhirdiad right now. Am I supposed to owe my allegiance to her?"

While Rodrigue served as the closest thing Dimitri had to a father ever since Lambert died, the relationship between Rodrigue and his biological son was dysfunctional at best.

"Our allegiance runs deeper than a chair," Rodrigue said with a shake of his head. "It's to a lineage that, with the goddess's will, overcame the oppression of the emperor in Enbarr and established a kingdom dedicated to a way of honor. Those values of loyalty, integrity, and righteousness have been instilled in each generation, including both yours and mine. Those same values are again at stake. I would have happily tossed my life aside for King Lambert, not only because of what he represented… but also because he was my friend. You have known Dimitri your entire life. Surely you cannot hate him so."

"Maybe he and I could have had a relationship like you and the late king," Felix admitted. He then turned to Dimitri bitterly. "But my friend died nine years ago at Duscur. I'm not sure what to call the beast that now inhabits his body."

Rodrigue would certainly have objected further, but their argument was interrupted by the arrival of new company. This included Sylvain and Ingrid, whom Dimitri and Felix had known since childhood, as well as Mercedes, who they had met at the Officer's Academy.

Sylvain was on one hand an intelligent and thoughtful man who, being two years older than his friends, served as a leader for their troupe growing up. On the other hand, he was a hopeless philanderer callous to the women's hearts he broke. Dimitri knew that Sylvain's psyche was heavily influenced by the role his Crest played in his life. Sylvain's father and his family's connections placed tremendous pressure on him as heir of House Gautier, the defenders of Faerghus's northern border with Sreng. Sylvain expected an arranged marriage and a future burdened with responsibility due to his Crest, which made him suspicious of everyone's intentions for him. He had only been named heir because his elder brother, Miklan, was born without a Crest. Disinherited after his younger brother's birth, Miklan had tried killing Sylvain multiple times out of jealousy during their youth, and his actions eventually led to his complete banishment from his family. While Sylvain and Dimitri were at the Officer's Academy, Miklan had died during an altercation with the Knights of Seiros when he tried stealing the Hero's Relic of House Gautier, the Lance of Ruin.

Ingrid came from one of Faerghus's poorest noble families. She was once betrothed to Glenn prior to his death, which would have been a very advantageous marriage for her house. Ingrid's father had set up several other matches for her over the years, but to her relief, they had fallen through on each occasion. Ingrid's true desire was to serve as a royal knight, just as Glenn had, but as the sole member of her family to bear a Crest, she also felt responsibility to use her gift to provide for her parents. The war gave her an easy excuse to fight for the Kingdom, but her future afterwards was uncertain.

Dimitri did not know Mercedes as well, but her story seemed rather complicated from what he had gathered. She was originally a member of a noble family in the Adrestian Empire before fleeing to a church in Faerghus. She was eventually forced out of the church by a wealthy merchant in Fhirdiad who adopted her in hopes of utilizing her Crest to work his way up the social ladder. Mercedes seemed more interested in a life of service to the needy than she did in serving as a noble's leverage into high society.

All three of these classmates' lives had been profoundly impacted by the toxic culture surrounding Crests in Fódlan. In some ways, they might have sympathized with Edelgard's plans to disrupt the nobility and excise the Church that she believed propped the system. Even so, they continued to fight for their friend and the independence of their homeland. Dimitri understood the failure of the system and wished to see it fixed, but that desire could never justify the actions that Edelgard had taken.

Upon the arrival of Sylvain, Ingrid, and Mercedes, everyone was accounted for. Two of their classmates were not present in Dimitri's army. One was Annette, Mercedes's best friend and Gustave's estranged daughter. She and her mother were under the care of her uncle Baron Dominic, who was complying with the Faerghus Dukedom. The baron was a traitor, but Dimitri bore no ill feelings against Annette. That being said, he had no use for someone so weak-willed in his army, so it was for the best that she stayed home.

The other student was Ashe Ubert, a commoner who was adopted by a minor lord in the Kingdom named Lord Lonato. There was some uncertainty regarding his status, at least until that night…

Rodrigue solemnly began, "There is something you should all know before we go any further. I'm sorry to confirm that your friend Ashe died among Count Rowe's men during their confrontation with the Resistance Army at Ailell. This should not come as a surprise, but I thought you all should know. I wish I could have conveyed the news sooner. Given the harsh conditions at Ailell and minimal intel we had on either army, it was difficult to properly ascertain anything about what happened."

All of Dimitri's friends reacted negatively to the news. Felix's lip twisted in frustration. Ingrid buried her head in her hands while Sylvain embraced her. Mercedes shed a tear as she said a prayer. Dedue frowned as he shut his eyes firmly.

For his part, the prince crossed his arms coldly. "Such is the fate of traitors."

Everyone balked at Dimitri's pronouncement- even Dedue. Ingrid was the first to vocally challenge it. "Traitor? Ashe adored you, Your Highness."

"Then why is he not here?"

Ingrid's head bowed, as if knowing the prince would not find her answer convincing. "He lived deep in territory now under the thumb of the Empire. We were not able to get the news of your survival to him."

When Ingrid's bubbling emotions prevented her from saying more, Sylvain took up her mantle and explained, "As for why he chose to march in their army… I'm sure he had his reasons. Perhaps he harbored resentment against the Central Church over the incident with Lonato. But as acting heir to House Gaspard, he likely had little choice in being conscripted into that army. Count Rowe was his liege."

As everyone predicted, Dimitri remained unconvinced. "Nothing but excuses. We all made the choice to stand up and resist. He made his choice and died. That's all there is to it."

Gustave did his best to keep the discussion from spinning out of control any further. "I know everyone has their opinions on this subject, but there are other matters to address. Our current situation has changed drastically. Our scouts have recently returned and provided me with the latest report. The imperial army has sortied from Fort Merceus and has assembled on the fields at Gronder. They are awaiting an engagement there with a force at least three times our size. They are being led by none other than Emperor Edelgard herself."

Ingrid raised her head, which had been focused at the dirt out of frustration. "And what of the other army? The one led by Claude?"

"They are still advancing, but if they continue at the same rate, they should reach Gronder within a day."

"A day? Goodness! We weren't expecting Claude to engage so quickly, were we?" Mercedes asked.

Gustave nodded. "It is a surprise to us all. The scouts believe the imperial army has only left the fortress in expectation of their arrival. They would likely have remained holed up inside had they only needed to deal with us."

"Fools," Dimitri said with a smile. "This is the engagement we've been waiting for. No more harassing their stragglers and supply trains. Now we can rip the head off the snake."

Dimitri's companions did not share his enthusiasm. Mercedes warily observed, "It also sounds very dangerous. We don't have enough healers to handle so many casualties. The number disadvantage is bad enough, but what if they are employing… umm… dark means of fighting?"

Mercedes seemed to be alluding to the possibility of demonic beasts being utilized by the imperial army. The origin of demonic beasts, which were vicious scaled creatures that could be as large as a whole room, was something of a mystery, though their existence seemed to be tied to the misuse of Crests. Miklan had transformed into one after attempting to wield the Lance of Ruin despite not bearing the compatible Crest, and several unfortunate victims had been converted into beasts during experimentation by the church's shadowy foes five years earlier.

It was common knowledge that demonic beasts had been used against the Kingdom army during the fighting in the north, but some had questioned if the Empire would be willing to use such unreliable monsters on their own territory.

Dimitri did not care much either way. "We've spent the last moon reaching for straws. A moon of accomplishing no more than a flea buzzing her shoulder. And now that we finally have our chance, it is clear what must be done. The emperor will kill us all eventually, so this is no time for cowardice."

No one was brave enough to openly defy the heir to their kingdom, but their uneasy silence confirmed their reservations towards Dimitri's reasoning.

"Do we know of Claude's intentions?" Dedue asked, keeping them on topic without either agreeing or disagreeing with the prince.

Rodrigue answered, "Not precisely, but we have no reason to think he wishes us ill."

"The Alliance will be led by scheming nobles that care little for our cause," Dimitri dismissed. "As soon as the Empire is defeated, they'd be all too happy to consume whatever scraps are left of Faerghus. For now, the best thing they can do is stay out of our way. Otherwise we'll have no choice but to destroy them, too."

"Perfidious or not, those nobles are commanded by Claude. He was a friend of yours, was he not?" Rodrigue asked.

"Where was Claude when our lands burned? When the innocent cried for salvation? Only a fool would rely upon his help. He has his own goals, just like that woman."

"The Boar Prince has a point," Felix reluctantly admitted, though perhaps not too disappointed to be siding against his father. "Not to say that Claude will attack us, but he hasn't done anything to give the idea that our goals align. We asked for his help before, and his response was useless garble."

Rodrigue shook his head. "Maybe so, but victory will be difficult without additional assistance. If we make enemies with the Master Tactician, it will be all but impossible."

Sylvain interjected, "It's too bad the Knights of Seiros declined to join us. That would have gone a long way to turning the tide in our favor. Plus, who wouldn't want to see the professor again?"

"She's a coward, just like the whole lot of them," Dimitri muttered. "They would rather us face the full force of the empire, while they come and mop up the leftovers."

"I was also disappointed to not have their assistance, but it did not occur as you suggest," Gustave refuted. "Professor Byleth was actually eager to join our cause and to see all of the former Blue Lions again when I requested passage across the Airmid. She was only talked down by Seteth, who was insistent that their army was not in shape to fight so soon after their storming of the Great Bridge of Myrddin."

"I see. It's a shame that the archbishop's secretary has so much sway over their legitimate commander." No one saw it, but Dimitri almost smiled upon hearing that the professor had not lost her tenacity after all. This warm feeling only lasted a moment, however. "But it doesn't matter. We'll slaughter the imperial army down the last man regardless. There will be no glory left for the church to claim."

Felix snorted. "I welcome the challenge, but victory doesn't require a complete massacre. Only a boar would find joy in counting bodies."

"If you do not have the stomach for this, then leave."

"Hmph. I wish I could, but who would that leave to look after the others? You might not care if you live or die, but you're going to drag everyone down with you." Felix sheathed his blade and stood. "Some conference this is. I'm better off using this time for training."

Sylvain's eyes lit up. "Oh! Felix, can I join?"

"Fine, come on," Felix sighed.

Once the pair of young men departed, Gustave returned to business. "If I may speak, Your Highness, I would recommend holding this position until the church is ready to engage. They will make valuable allies if we would only wait for them to recuperate."

Dimitri shook his head. "Valuable allies, ehh? Weren't you all just saying the same about the Alliance? The church has had a full moon, and they're still sitting on their hands. We can't delay. We may never get this opportunity again."

"But Your Highn-."

"The dead won't wait any longer!" Dimitri interposed. "How could you ask that of them? I know you hear their cries, too, Gustave."

Gustave's expression fell in resignation. "… Very well. Designing proper formations will be difficult without everyone here, but I will begin making preparations for our advance. We can discuss the details tomorrow morning. Please… try to sleep well, Your Highness."

Dimitri watched silently as Gustave bowed and made his exit.

Finally seeing an opportunity to get a word in, Ingrid seized her chance. "Your Highness… I apologize on behalf of Felix and Sylvain. You know how loyal we are. I promise to guard you with my life tomorrow."

"Nonsense," Dimitri said plainly.

Ingrid blinked in confusion. "… Pardon, Your Highness? Have I done something to offend you?"

"No."

"When why would you say that?"

Dimitri paused before finally saying, "Trying to guard me will be the most dangerous task on the battlefield."

"But Your Highness, that's all the more reason to-."

"You have your orders," Dimitri spat. "Who else will led the pegasus knights if not you? You will fight where you are needed. Now leave me be."

Ingrid's face contorted with pain. It wasn't a pleasant sight, but her temporary frustration was insignificant compared to the cost of her joining the ranks of the dead. "I… Yes, Your Highness," she uttered before retiring.

With Sylvain, Felix, and Ingrid all gone, it was becoming increasingly uncertain why Mercedes remained.

"What are you still doing here?" Dimitri asked of her. "Follow your friends."

Mercedes tried to cover her hurt feelings, but they still seeped through her expression and voice. "I… you are my friend, too, Dimitri, but if you wish to be alone, I will give you space."

With her departure, only Rodrigue and Dedue remained with Dimitri.

"It is clear they all hate me. Why do they not go home?" the prince asked of Rodrigue.

"No one in this army hates you, Your Highness. I will not deny… their frustration. The subjugation of Faerghus weighs upon them all heavily, as I am sure it does you. Most of them believe we should be focusing on fighting the Dukedom before tackling the Empire directly. They might disagree with how this army is currently being led, but their bonds of loyalty are not so easily broken." Rodrigue then made a quick bow. "It is clear that you wish to be alone, and I will comply. But please, Your Highness. Do not treat your life as if it is worthless tomorrow… or any day, for that matter. Your survival thus far is nothing short of miraculous. There must be a reason you have lived, and I do not think it is simply to avenge the dead. You are the sole hope for Faerghus's restoration. If I die tomorrow, it will be because I lived and fought for something I believe in. I pray that you will do the same. You owe me nothing else, Your Highness. Please remember that."

Dimitri remained sullenly silent as Rodrigue left. He did eventually turn to Dedue, however.

"Dedue… what do you think will happen tomorrow?"

"You will face Edelgard on the battlefield, and I will be by your side to the very end. That is all I can promise."

"And it is all that I ask. But please, I've already lost you once." Dimitri's voice cracked. "Do not ever throw your life away again. Understood?"

"Your Highness…" Dedue muttered in surprise. "… Understood."

"Good," the prince said simply as he closed his eyes. It was nearly time for it to all be over.